You gotta give this place credit. There was a line to get in when we left at 6 am. A line of people waiting to pay good money to enter a shady cave of a place that I imagine looks and smells like the coal room of the Titanic (you know, where Kate Winslet danced with the poors), that plays an unrelenting stream of techno, in which every guy you see is carrying a candy bag of secrets, some of the viral variety. I'll say my entrance fee was well spent as I witnessed a gyrating midget approach multiple women and dance up on them while fiddling with his T-shirt to show off his wee little 6-pack. I can only hope to see that once more before I die.